


Either or Both of Me

by galacticproportions



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: Compersion, Cunnilingus, F/F, Fingering, Fisting, Poly V, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-10 17:37:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7854655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galacticproportions/pseuds/galacticproportions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holtzmann is so attracted to both of them that when they're all in the same room, unless there's a Class Three spectre or above in there with them, she vibrates between them like an oscilloscope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Either or Both of Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cicak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cicak/gifts).



> This is a venture out of my normal fanzone for cicak, with a ton of internet love. May all your pain soon vanish and your practical matters be resolved in a way that favors your survival.
> 
> ETA: I can't BELIEVE I forgot to mention in this note that this story would not even exist if it weren't for cicak's "The Perfect Girlfriend", so go read that, you're in for a treat.
> 
> Also, the title is the title of a beautiful song by Phoebe Snow that I recommend listening to if you get the chance.

Holtzmann and Erin had already been fucking like nuclear-powered bunnies for about three months before Patty shyly asked Holtzmann if she wanted to take a stroll down to the Tenement Museum and then maybe get Indian food on 6th Street after. 

"Is this a date," Holtzmann said around the spot welder she was gripping between her teeth. "Are you asking me out on a date."

"I can't understand a word you're saying," Patty came back. "Take that damn thing out your mouth." 

She asked Erin first, since they'd never really talked about how exclusive they wanted to be. Erin was working, a modeling program open on her laptop and a pencil in her hair and a red-sauce stain on her beige sweater. "Sure, Holtz," she said. "Knock yourself out."

"Even if there's kissing?"

"Yes, even if there's kissing. Make her some new inventions. Maybe you can get that two-pronged thing to work for her, it's not doing it for me." 

The evening did indeed end with Holtzmann and Patty kissing, spicy-tongued, at the door to the firehouse, and with Holtzmann wondering briefly if she'd bought herself a one-way ticket to Threesome Island or just a world of complications. But as further conversations unfolded, it developed that Patty wasn't attracted to Erin, and Erin wasn't attracted to Patty. Holtzmann, on the other hand, was so attracted to both of them that when they were all in the same room, unless there was a Class Three spectre or above in there with them, she vibrated like an oscilloscope. (She was a little worried about Abby, but a few awkward questions revealed that Abby had been happily not-cohabiting with an auto detailer from Staten Island, named Lena, since just after her falling-out with Erin, and was more than taken care of in that department.) 

Holtzmann rapidly discovered that being Patty's girlfriend was very different, delightfully so, from being Erin's girlfriend, which was also delightful. Erin liked what she called "the inventions", loved the teledildonics and electronic appendages and the wearable vibe with a satellite-enabled remote so strong that if Erin was on a call in Brooklyn, Holtzmann could press the trigger in the Bronx and make her come. (The signal still didn't work if one of them was below street level, which was probably just as well.) Patty, on the other hand, had no interest in the two-pronged thing or in any of Holtzmann's other devices. What Patty liked was to sit on the edge of her bed while Holtzmann ate her pussy for an unspecified amount of time. Holtzmann could go into a trance there, her face smeared with Patty's musk, alternating licking and nibbling with some serious sucking, getting her tongue up inside, moaning and cursing with how good Patty smelled and tasted and how good Patty's hands felt clenching on her shoulders and in her hair. What Patty liked was for Holtzmann to brace her legs wide and open up for Patty's hand, while Patty coaxed her softly, "C'mon, Holtzy, c'mon, baby, take a little more for me, I know you can." Holtzmann felt like she was at the center of a plasma reaction, and she actually had a basis for comparison there. 

Patty called her "Holtzy" or "baby." Erin called her "Holtz" or, very rarely, "pigeon," which Holtzmann claimed to detest, like any good New Yorker, but secretly loved. Holtzmann called them an endlessly rotating string of endearments, not because she couldn't keep track of who she was with but because she adored them both, because she couldn't believe it, because they wanted her to call them pet names, they wanted her to bite their nipples (Patty) or grab their ass (Erin), they wanted her to be the big spoon (Patty) or the little spoon (Erin). They both wanted to show her things they'd discovered, things they'd learned; they both kissed her when she came up with something new for the team, even the pocket ghost trap that ended up working for just long enough for Erin to get coated with slime. "Why is it always me," she raged, "why am I always the one, no one else gets so much as a speck and I end up at Slime Ground Zero every single time." Holtzmann walked her into the bathroom and undressed her and took the newly adapted five-speed, twelve-pressure showerhead down from the wall and aimed it strategically at Erin's clit until her yells were audible in the reception area. (They knew, because later Kevin asked them if maybe they'd gotten a cat, and if so could he see if he could train it to answer the phone, because he'd heard you could train cats to use the toilet and it seemed just about the same.)

Erin loved the problem-solver in her, told her she was a genius, asked her what she was working on, praised her workarounds. Patty loved her enthusiasm, how geeked-out she got and how she goofed around about it; she probably laughed more with Patty in a month than she had in her entire life to date. She could listen to Patty talk about old New York all day, chin on her hands like a kid at story hour while Patty talked about land grabs and sandhogs and the border stone between Brooklyn and Queens that people with Dutch names kept moving back and forth, letting her mouth hang open with disgust while Patty talked about slave auction sites and the demolition of Seneca Village by Mayor Fernando Wood and the other white planners of Central Park. With Erin she argued about math, about theoretical and practical physics, about the differences between ghost matter and earthly matter and whether you could use spectral energy to fuel something on the material plane; with Patty she talked about the ethics of doing just that.

And in between conversations, she tied Erin to the brass bedframe from the flea market (which required three separate ghost removals before it was usable) and fucked her with the mind-control dildo till she drenched the sheets. The next day, Erin and Abby went to visit Abby's mother in the nursing home, and Patty said musingly, "Let's just see how many times I can make you come before the pizza gets here," and they maxed out at seven, Holtzmann's clit so swollen and sensitive that she couldn't put her pants back on for hours and nearly had to go out to a call in one of Erin's skirts, which would've been embarrassing on so many levels. 

She worried that they'd be jealous of each other; they never were. She worried that she wouldn't be able to keep up with them, that they'd need more from her than she was able to give, but they seemed to draw out different parts of her, to cherish certain elements of her and make certain demands of her while letting others rest. She felt appreciated, she felt recognized, she was taking it like a black hole and coming like an express train on an average of twelve times a week, and the cold-fusion-powered ghost containment unit was almost operational and was set to cut their Con Ed bill by at least a third. She'd never been happier.


End file.
